This film is not about a guy who jumps into a volcano. It's about everyman (and everywoman - or at least three women, each played by Meg Ryan) and the "crooked road" to self realization and action from the crippling inaction of life's daily grind.
Everything is a symbol from the haircuts to the sets to the land, air and sea journey... I'm not smart enough to point them out, but the film begs for repeated viewing to decipher the meaning of the images, like, "Why are there Great Danes outside the NYC store? Why are there three Meg Ryans? Why does Joe's boss have prosthetic testicles on his desk?"
Maybe it suffered by the timing of its release, coming off of the flashy "me" 80's or maybe it suffered the high expectations of being Speilberg produced and a follow up to a screenwriting Oscar by writer/director John Patrick Shanley. It seems to be a small film in a big film's clothing. But it's ideas are big. Not the least is the idea that nothing is more tragic, even the chance of death in the burning cauldron of a volcano is worse than an unexamined and unremarkable life.